


Semi-Mental

by AllTimeMarshmallow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Cigarettes, College AU, F/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTimeMarshmallow/pseuds/AllTimeMarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was her mentor, her guide. She was his exact opposite. She'd fallen for him, but she wasn't going to give into temptation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here, I've written other ones before but I've never posted them. This is also my first Hannibloom fic- I'm writing it mostly because I think college Alana would be quite interesting to write, but also Hannibal says how people thought they were having an affair, so this is me taking advantage of that. Also taking advantage of the line where Alana warns Hannibal not to self-medicate.
> 
> I'm pathetic at tagging things, sorry. I don't really know what I'm doing with them half the time, so I'll just... add a few and keep away the rest of the time. Oops.
> 
> Sorry that it's a pretty short chapter, I hope the next one will be a lot longer. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Oh and the title is named after the song by Biffy Clyro.

She pressed the cigarette to her lips and inhaled the smoke. She was aware of the health implications of smoking, but frankly she didn’t care. College life was stressful. Nicotine helped her focus her thoughts.

She couldn’t help but find him incredibly attractive, his sandy hair and high cheekbones, with golden brown eyes that twinkled in the light. She knew he had figured out her attraction towards him. He was observant and would notice the widening of her pupils and the ever so slight blush that graced her cheeks that indicated lust.

She, the twenty-two year old college student, who smoked, dressed like a punk and drank too much beer, was harbouring a… “crush”, for lack of a better word, on her thirty-four year old, very refined mentor who enjoyed fine wines, opera music and couldn’t stand smoking. She finished her cigarette and went back into her apartment, staring at all the work she didn’t want to do, but had to. She sat down, sighing, and opened a book, trying to focus on the words that danced on the page before her eyes. 

 

The next day, after the lecture, he approached her. She didn’t notice right until she looked up and made to move out, only to walk into him. She had been too pre-occupied with organizing her notes and packing them into her shoulder-bag. 

“Oh, hello Dr Lecter,” she said, smiling warmly at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to be standing there.”

“Of course,” he said, returning the smile. It wasn’t an eye to eye grin, but it was a smile nonetheless. It was his smile, which suited his features perfectly. And there it was again, her mind wandering on about his wonderfully handsome face.

“So, what gives me the pleasure of sharing your company today?” she asked, slinging her bag on her shoulder and walking out alongside him.

“Nothing in particular, I just wanted to say you did very well on that report you handed in to me. You’re a very intelligent young woman, Ms Bloom. You’ll do very well,” he told her.

She looked up at him, a grin blossoming across her face. “I’m honoured you think that.” They had reached the outside now, and she stopped to rummage at her bag, pulling out a cigarette, putting it in her mouth and lighting it. “Sorry,” she apologized, looking at his harsh stare, “I know you hate it, but I can’t help it anymore.” She shrugged. “Stress, and then again I’m addicted to them now.”

“I personally find it ironic that you wish to do your utmost best to help people, yet you, of all people, smoke,” he explained, “I imagine you know the health risks?”

“Mhm, I know,” she said, exhaling the smoke, trying her best to be considerate and not blow it into his face. “The care I hold for others doesn’t apply to me.”

“You say you’re stressed. Why is that?” he inquired. “Self medication is never the answer to your troubles, Ms Bloom.”

She looked up to see concern in the features of his face. She was about to snap back a sarcastic reply, telling him she was fine, but stopped when she saw his face. Instead she spoke with a soft tone, telling him half truths rather than outright lies. “Sorry, it’s not much really, it used to be a lot worse. Now I’m just addicted to them.” _It was still just as bad. Everything._

He nodded, taking the hint. “Well, I can always try to guide you to the best of my ability.” _His way of saying “I’ll always be here to talk when you need to.”_

“Thanks,” she responded, feeling him brush his hand softly against hers. _Damn him, he knows and he takes advantage of it all the time._ She tried her best not to show how she really felt towards this small amount of contact, but she knew he’d figure out anyway.

They muttered goodbyes, and she ran back the stairs to her apartment on campus, fumbling for her keys in the bottom of her bag. Eventually she found them and jammed them into the door lock, twisting it until she heard the little click, telling her the door was opened. She pushed it open and flung her bag to the floor as she walked over to her bed. She flopped down on it.

Oh how she really hated that man right now. She didn’t exactly want to do anything about her feelings for him, but he always hinted to her, with brushes of hands, long stares, fingers drifting across the small of her back lightly, that an affair between them would be good, even functional. She vowed she would resist, until the very end. She would not give into temptation.

 

She hadn’t noticed she had fallen asleep until she woke up, and found the room dark. She yawned, and slowly sat up, eventually managing to lift herself up from the bed and pulled the blinds down on the window. 

She checked the time and realized it was too late for her to risk going somewhere to get something to eat alone. She was hungry, and didn’t feel like ordering a take-away. She checked the fridge and found a pasta salad, and pulled out a beer with it. 

She ate her meal in the dark. It was too late for her to do any work unfortunately, so once she was finished her meal she lay on her bed, listening to the sounds of some of her fellow students having fun. She preferred to get drunk alone. It sounded sad- maybe it was- but she didn’t want to get taken advantage of. 

She watched as the minutes ticked by on the alarm clock sitting on the drawers beside her bed. 11:58 p.m. 11:59 p.m. 12:00 p. m. 12:01 p.m. She had got through the day successfully. She could cross this day off her calendar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a lot longer, like I said it would be! I'm not sure what I'm doing with this chaper to be honest because I usually have a plan written out, but I don't have one for this story. 
> 
> This is rather fluffy, you have been warned! Enjoy~

The next day she went to the lecture hall earlier than usual so she could get herself breakfast on the way. She bought herself a coffee and a croissant, and sipped the hot coffee on the way, burning her tongue. It was a cold morning, her warm breath clouding around her face. Her multi-coloured knitted scarf was wrapped around her neck and her grey beanie kept her head warm.

When she got to the lecture hall, she sat in her usual place away from everyone else and took out her notes. She nibbled on her croissant and sat in her chair. She heard the door close and looked up, except it wasn’t Dr Lecter walking in, but another man, short and stout, with graying black hair and glasses.

“Hello class, my name is Charles Harrison,” he announced when he reached the top of the hall.

“Where’s Dr Lecter?” one student asked.

“He’s left,” Dr Harrison said, “I’ll be taking today’s class.” He refused to elaborate in the subject anymore, and instead commenced his lecture.  
Alana spent the whole class drifting away from reality. She wondered if Dr Lecter would give up mentoring her as well.

Eventually the class finished and instead of taking her time like she usually did, she leaped from her chair, quickly gathered up her noted and strided out of the room before anyone else. She walked quickly outside and once she got there, she shoved her notes in her bag and had a quick smoke break.

She supposed it would be for the best if Dr Lecter stopped mentoring her. The fact she had fallen for him was not healthy for their professional relationship. Allowing her emotions to rule her would only end badly, for both of them.

She decided she’d pay a visit to his office, see if he was there. It was situated a short walk away, and it didn’t take her long to get there. Instead of taking the lift as it was already occupied, she opted to go up the stairs.

She ran up the stairs, and was panting when she reached the top. Maybe he had a point after all, that smoking really was not good for her health.

The waiting room was empty so she took a seat, glancing over to the table, which was filled with classic literature rather than the usual tattered gossip magazines that were usually found in abundance in waiting rooms. There were, however, a few copies of the National Geographic stuck beneath the books. She smiled. Of course he would keep nature magazines too.

She picked up one of the books, a hardback copy of Sherlock Holmes and the Hounds of Baskervilles. She opened it, turning over the pages absent mindedly, not really focusing on the words.

She could hear his voice, so she knew he was in the office. She found his accent was beautiful, she guessed he was European, probably from Eastern Europe. He could speak fluent French though, as she had heard him conversing with a French student before.

She heard the door open and looked up from her book. A patient exited and he stepped out behind her, until he spotted Alana and stopped.  
“Ms Bloom,” he said, “how nice to see you.”

“Hello Dr Lecter, can I um, talk to you for a minute please?” She placed the book down and stood up.

“Of course. I’m on my break now, would you rather to stay here or have lunch in my apartment?” he asked her. Alana noticed in the corner of her eye the patient stopped, waiting for the lift, intently listening to their conversation. They quickly glanced at the two of them before the ding indicated the lift had arrived and they departed.

“Ms Bloom?” She shook her head, snapping out of her trance.

“Sorry,” she apologised, “I’m pretty sure your patient thinks we’re dating,” she laughed, slightly unsure of herself.  
He smirked back at her. “And how does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know, how does it make you feel?” she returned the grin and he stepped closer to her, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes before stepping back again.  
“Which would you rather?” he asked again.

She shrugged. “I don’t mind. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

“My apartment it is then.” He linked arms and smiled at her. “Everyone thinks we are dating, so why not?”

She felt herself go dizzy with exhilaration. She pulled herself in closer and followed him into the lift.

“I don’t like eating out, so I’ll make us something small when we’re in my apartment, and then we can talk about whatever it is you wish to,” he explained.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Just curious, where are you from? Your accent makes me believe your European, and despite hearing you talk French, I don’t think you’re from France either.”

“You’re very smart,” he laughed. “I’m Lithuanian. I once lived in France with my dear aunt Lady Murasaki. Do you speak French?”

“Oui, j’ai habité au Canada, quand j’étais une petite fille,” she responded.

“C’est très intéressant. J’aime la culture français," he said.

She nodded. “Do you speak any other languages?”

“Yes, I speak Italian, Japanese and of course, Lithuanian. What about you?”

She laughed. “I know a minimal amount of Italian, but that’s it. It wasn't until I was older that a love of languages blossomed within me, but I’ve college to focus on now rather than learn Italian and Spanish. I’d love to learn Japanese though.”

“I might teach you some day.” He gazed down at her, a caring look in his amber eyes.

“I’d like that,” she whispered. The lift reached it destination, and with the resounding ding he dropped her arm, letting her exit the lift before him.

“Tell me a bit about your family,” he said to her.

She shrugged. “Normal French-Canadian family. I lived in Quebec until I moved out when I was eighteen and went to college.”

“Do you have any brothers of sisters?”

“Just three brothers, all older than me; Anthony, Peter and Daniel. Anthony, the oldest, is an engineer, Peter is a doctor, and Daniel is lawyer.”

“What was it like, the youngest, the only girl among three boys?”

“Interesting! I grew up playing with Ninja Mutant Turtles rather than Barbie dolls thanks to them. And I wasn’t a quiet child! Do you have any siblings yourself?”

“Please, we’re not in university right now, call me Hannibal,” he told her. “I used to have a sister called Mischa. We were very close. She died when I was eight.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alana told him, gripping his hand and squeezing it momentarily as a gesture of comfort, before letting go. He genuinely looked sad and she didn’t ask any more questions, afraid she’d ask the wrong ones.

They reached his penthouse apartment, high above the city. He unlocked the door and allowed her inside. “You first, Ms Bloom.”

“You can call me Alana,” she told him, “thank you very much.” She stepped inside his apartment, gazing at it in wonder. It was huge, compared to her own apartment. A soft blue carpet spread out beneath her feet like the sea. The walls were a cream colour, and there was a huge bookcase, filled with books. 

“It’s lovely,” she told his, looking around. She walked over to the bookcase and traced her fingers along the spines of the book. Eventually she stopped. “Flannery O’Connor,” she read out. “I tried to grow peacocks a few years ago, just to be like her. Unfortunately, what they have in beauty, they lack in brains.”  
She turned around and looked at him. He had closed the door, but was still observing her from a distance. “What?” she chuckled.

He smiled. “Wish to join me in the kitchen and help me make lunch?”

“Sure,” she followed him into a brighter room, light linen curtains on the window, a clean stainless steel sink and fridge, and painting on the wall and a large wooden table in the centre, with a bowl of fruit on it. “Your apartment is really nice.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal responded, opening the fridge and taking out eggs, ham and cheese. “I thought we should make a simple omlette.”

Alana nodded, walking over to stand beside him. “I’m not a very talented cook,” she warned him, “I tend to burn things.”

He looked at her. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure that won’t happen.” He set the ingredients down on the counter. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”  
“Well, it’s not so much a concern anymore, but I wanted to check you hadn’t left here altogether, and that you hadn’t stopped mentoring me.” _God she sounded stupid. When did her brain start making these ridiculous decisions? Oh yes, when every part of her decided to fall for Hannibal. Dammit._

“Of course not!” he laughed, “I wouldn’t be so rude as to leave and give up my work as your mentor without telling you.”

She relaxed. “That’s okay then, thanks,” she smiled. “Sorry, all this over nothing, I won’t do this again.” She felt her cheeks turn warm with embarrassment. “Maybe I should leave now.” She made to exit but he grabbed her wrist firmly, but gently.

“Do you need to be anywhere right now?” She shook her head. “Then stay, please.” He dropped her wrist and she returned to her previous spot beside him.

His hands were on hers as he guided her how to cook, helping her make their lunch. They laughed when she dropped the egg on her foot rather than into the bowl, and when he tried to perform a trick while cracking it, the egg missed the bowl and he simply looked at it, much to her delight.

Eventually they finished cooking and sat down to eat their meal at the table. "This is delicious," Alana told him. They ate their meal in a comfortable silence.

And later, when she headed back to her apartment, she realised it wouldn’t have been a good thing if he had left. In fact, she would have lost a very good friend.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you wish, thank you <3  
> My tumblr is alltimemarshmallow.tumblr.com so follow me on there if you want, and yes, you may send me prompts! 
> 
> Thanks again!


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